Teacher meets Student
by Serpent Son
Summary: Harry needs help preparing for the Last Battle. What happens when the only person able to help him is his school rival? Possible gay, but not definite HP DM


Chapter One

Harry Potter sat down at the Great Hall, between his two best friends; Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.  
"Hey, you missed another Potions class, what's up?" Ron asked immediately.  
"Nothing." Harry shrugged, setting his school bag under the bench.  
"Harry-" Hermione started, worry apparent in her brown eyes.  
"Nothing's up." Harry snapped, annoyed at his friend's concern.  
"Okay, but you know we worry about you, what with Voldemort out and all." Hermione said, shaking her brown hair over her shoulders and looking at Ron with a 'say something' look.  
"Oh, yeah." Ron said, catching the look. "You really need to trust us, Harry. It's bad enough you've started snapping at everyone on the Quidditch team, we don't need it during the day too"  
"Our Quidditch team sucks." Harry pouted, grabbing some food.  
"No, it doesn't, actually, but all our good practices lately have been when you have detention with Snape, and that's only because you're not nagging us every half a second." Ron corrected.  
Harry scowled, but, of course, his friend was right. Ever since three weeks ago, when Harry had hired a tutor for his fight with Voldemort, Harry had been in a rather reluctant and testy mood. He had started yelling pointlessly at his Quidditch team, snapping at teachers, and gaining plenty more detentions than normal, which did nothing to improve his mood. He'd even started ignoring his friends at times. Having to pay the tutor fourteen galleons per lesson, Harry was now short on money and needed to go back to his vault in Gringotts wizarding bank, where his seemingly inexhaustible wealth lay. This tutoring was also why Harry had been missing Potions lessons, and gotten most of his detentions. To Harry, Potions was a useless subject since the Ministry of Magic had now forbidden him any job of the Ministry sort and he couldn't become an Auror. So he had skipped it since the tutor had dropped out of the subject as well and only had free time during then.  
"Harry? We lose you, mate?" Ron was waving a hand in front of Harry's face, that bothersome worried look crossing his freckled face again.  
"Get off it." Harry scowled again, knocking Ron's hand aside.  
Ron looked hurt, but he stopped and sat back down, the expression on his face similar to that of someone being told that their entire family has just died.  
Hermione "tsked" and shook her head, the strand of hair she had brushed away now slipping back in front of her face.  
Harry recognized this silence: he was being ignored; cut out of the conversation like some ugly snitch. Harry frowned and stood up abruptly, leaving his food untouched.  
"Suddenly, I'm not hungry." Harry stated to no one in particular, grabbing his bag and storming out of the Great Hall.  
This had been happening more and more often, but that was the first time he'd gained the silent treatment before finishing his breakfast. This was going to be a bad day.  
Harry sighed and hitched his bag higher up on his shoulder and his frown deepened as he walked aimlessly through the corridor. He still had about a half hour before classes started and all his homework was done, excluding the Potions homework he had resolved to never do.  
"What's this? Potty lost his friends?" A voice called out through the halls and Harry sighed heavily, stopping in his aimless stride to turn quickly to face Draco Malfoy, who was sauntering up to him, surprisingly alone.  
"What's this, Malfoy? Friends finally realize you're a selfish git?" Harry retorted.  
Draco Malfoy, in all his pale, pointed glory, finally reached Harry and stopped, hands on his hips.  
"Do I have to double my salary, Potter?" Draco taunted.  
Harry scowled.  
"You do and I'll personally use these new skills to maim you." Harry threatened.  
"Oh, getting a bit cocky? A bit like your father, hmm?" Draco knew Harry would do no such thing.  
Harry stomped his foot angrily.  
"Stop it, Malfoy!" Harry yelled, his voice echoing slightly around the corridor.  
"Stop what?" Draco pushed, his light grey eyes narrowing maliciously.  
Harry could only take so much these days. He dropped his bag and lunged at Draco, teeth bared.  
Draco's eyes widened and he lept backwards, causing Harry to grab his legs. They both fell over and Harry struggled to sit up to get a clear shot at Draco's head. Draco squirmed and kicked at Harry, who held tight.  
"Get out of it, Potter!" Draco shouted angrily, kicking and scratching at Harry's arms that were still surrounding his legs.  
"You stop taunting me! This is more than I can take right now!" Harry argued stubbornly.  
"Fine!" Draco spat. "Now get off me"  
Harry let go, slowly standing up and brushing himself off.  
Draco scrambled to his feet rather ungracefully, but quickly regained his Malfoy smirk and haughty attitude.  
"There. You got what you wanted, I guess." Draco snapped.  
Harry sighed, smoothing his impossibly messy black hair.  
"Look, Malfoy. We're gonna have to stop this if I'm to be your student." Harry said, extending a hand. "Truce"  
Draco laughed cruelly.  
"Truce! Not a chance, Potter. I will loosen up, okay? But in no way, no how, and no world would I agree to a truce with the Boy-Who-Lived." Draco retorted.  
Harry dropped his hand and frowned angrily.  
"I have a name, Malfoy." Harry snapped.  
"Oh, that's right. They call you the Chosen One as well, don't they?" Draco remarked.  
"My name is Harry!" Harry spat.  
"You don't want me to call you Harry, do you?" Draco raised an eyebrow and smirked.  
"What? No not you, I...uh...ah!" Harry threw his hands up in the air in frustration and went to retrieve his bag. "Call me Potter for all I care, but don't use those Ministry names. I am not a Chosen One, and I should not be a Boy-Who-Lived"  
"Should not? Don't you value life, Potter?" Draco frowned.  
"Not like you. You value your life too much. I bet you wouldn't even help a friend if it meant putting yourself at risk." Harry snapped.  
Draco crossed his arms.  
Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and said, "No, I don't think I should've lived. But I did and my life is Hell because of it. If living is like this, I'd rather die"  
Draco's frown deepened.  
"Somehow, I never saw you as this kind of guy." Draco remarked softly.  
"Then you obviously don't know what I'm going through, Malfoy." Harry retorted, frowning right back.  
"And you don't know me. I know my life isn't that important. Not to Him anyway." Draco shrugged uncomfortably and looked away from Harry's questioning stare.  
"Him? What do you mean? Voldemort?" Harry asked.  
Draco flinched slightly at the mention of the Dark Lord, but sighed and looked back at Harry and whispered, "The Dark Lord values his life and no one else's, Potter. To anyone but myself, my very existence is meaningless and an utter waste of time. We're all slaves to a certain degree, Potter"  
And with that grim statement, Draco lowered his gaze, spun on his heel and walked away from Harry.  
Harry was left with a disturbing thought; what if Malfoy was just misunderstood, like him? He had been put up to challenges, just like Harry, but these challenges had broken him, formed him like clay, whereas Harry had pushed them aside, choosing to be stubborn and not submit.  
Sighing, yet again, Harry turned and continued his aimless walk.


End file.
